


Small Gestures

by malevolentmango



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Drinking, First Kiss, Flirty Jesse McCree, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Snowed In, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 15:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8996866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malevolentmango/pseuds/malevolentmango
Summary: A freak snow storm leaves Jesse and Hanzo trapped in King's Row over Christmas. Never let it be said that Jesse McCree isn't prepared for anything a mission has in store for him...even matters of the heart.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [Tsoleil](http://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorqui) for beta reading this one!
> 
> I wrote this a few weeks ago, long before the "Reflections" comic came out and Hanzo blew everyone's mind by being a total badass. I probably would have written him a little differently here with that in mind...but I'm too eager to get started on my next fic, which will explore that in much greater depth anyway.

Jesse McCree was a simple cowboy at heart, but he had a few steadfast rules that had kept him breathing year by year, all the way from Deadlock on through to the second incarnation of Overwatch:

  1. Play the fool for exactly as long as it takes to make a fool out of your enemies.
  2. Never underestimate someone just because they’re smaller than you.
  3. If a commanding officer says the words “...and we’ll have you home in two weeks!” you had better be ready to stay for a month.



  
The third rule came in particularly handy one day in mid-December, when Winston called him and a devastatingly handsome archer by the name of Hanzo Shimada to his lab for a mission briefing. The plan, he explained, gesturing to the two of them over a table covered with half-finished blueprints and empty peanut butter jars, was that they would stake out a suspected Talon hideout in King’s Row.

 

“With the holidays, you know,” Winston said, pushing his glasses back up to his eyes with his forefinger, “there are lots of people coming and going. Even Talon needs a break once in a while. This could be a great opportunity for us to gather intel on this branch of their organization. But do not engage with them unless absolutely necessary; we’d like to keep the element of surprise if we can. You two work well together, I trust you’re more than capable of handling yourselves.”

 

Which was how Jesse found himself on an airship the following morning with a grumpy Hanzo, their pilot, Lena, and a promise from Winston that they’d “be back at the Watchpoint in time for Christmas!”

 

Obviously, Jesse had other ideas about this prediction, but no one had questioned him when he lugged his larger-than-strictly-necessary duffel bag on board, so he kept those thoughts to himself. Instead, he focused his attention on his mission partner. Hanzo had immediately dropped himself into one of the jump seats just inside the wide door of the ship, and seemed to be contemplating the merits of taking a nap right where he was.

 

Barely sparing a glance for the several other available jump seats, Jesse strapped himself into the one right next to Hanzo as the airship rumbled to life beneath their feet.

 

“You know, Hanzo, we got these things at the Watchpoint called ‘beds.’ Pretty comfy, meant for sleepin’ in. You should give ‘em a try sometime.” He nudged Hanzo’s arm off his half of the armrest.

 

Hanzo opened his eyes for just as long as it took to shoot a glare at Jesse before closing them again and letting out a disgruntled huff. He did make room on the armrest, though, which Jesse counted as a small victory.

 

“Hana refused to let me leave the base without settling our Street Fighter XV tiebreaker,” Hanzo said, amusement evident even in his tired voice. “It took longer than expected.”

 

Jesse chuckled. “Didya win?”

 

Hanzo was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “No. She won in the last round.” Jesse caught the barest hint of a grin on his face. “I can only assume she has been practicing in secret…”

 

“Yeah, I’ll bet she has. Got a reputation to protect, after all,” Jesse said, smiling. “Wish I coulda seen that one.”

 

“You needed your rest. You are still not fully recovered from our mission in Numbani.”

 

Jesse supposed that was technically true. Their efforts to deliver the Doomfist gauntlet to a more secure location had been a success, but they had certainly taken a few hits - which in Jesse’s case had been a large, deep gash in his right side from a Talon thug who apparently liked to get up close and personal with his targets. Or he had, at least, until Hanzo put an arrow through his eye the second Jesse hit the ground. Angela had cleared him for this mission, but it did still twinge occasionally.

 

Jesse turned his head so he was speaking directly into Hanzo’s ear. “Why darlin’, I didn’t know you cared so much ‘bout little ol’ me.”

 

He watched the pink creep into Hanzo’s cheeks with satisfaction before leaning back in his jump seat and tipping his hat down to cover his eyes.

 

“Of course I do. The well-being of teammates is important.”

 

Jesse didn’t respond, but he _did_ shift his leg ever so slightly to the left so that their thighs were touching, his lips twitching up into a smile under the brim of his hat when Hanzo didn’t move away.

 

~~~

 

It was a relatively short trip from Gibraltar to King’s Row, but Jesse found himself nodding off as well, lulled by the whir of the engines. He woke up to a weight on his shoulder as Lena steered them in for a landing. Hanzo was fast asleep, the stray locks of his inky hair scattered across the front of Jesse’s serape. He smiled softly at the sight. Let the man have a couple more minutes, he thought, keeping as still as he could; after all, it wasn’t every day Hanzo Shimada let his guard down around anyone.

 

Jesse liked to think it wasn’t a coincidence that it happened more often around him than it did anyone else, save perhaps Genji. Seeing Hanzo asleep on his shoulder like this wasn’t an accident - it was a privilege. One that he didn’t intend to take for granted.

 

That didn’t stop the sight from twisting up his insides something fierce, however. He wouldn’t mind seeing Hanzo this way more often…

 

Jesse was jolted out of his thoughts by the airship touching down at their designated drop-off point, and the faint rustling of Lena moving around in the cockpit. Hanzo seemed to wake up more slowly, shifting slightly in the uncomfortable jump seat, before he realized exactly where he was. In an instant, he had moved so that not a single part of him was touching Jesse anymore. Hanzo's face was redder than he'd ever seen it.

 

“I apologize,” Hanzo muttered, staring resolutely toward the cockpit stairs as if he were awaiting Lena’s grand entrance.

 

“No need for apologies, darlin’. You can use me as a pillow anytime you like.” He lowered his voice playfully as Lena came walking down to meet them, stretching out her stiff muscles from the cramped pilot's seat. “Matter ‘a fact, you can use me for just about anythin’.”

 

He just barely heard the low, strained noise that Hanzo made over the sounds of him hurrying to escape from the confines of the jump seat. Jesse took his time, smiling pleasantly at Lena and stretching his arms above his head as he said, “Thanks for the ride, captain!”

 

Lena giggled and offered them one of her signature salutes. “Cheers! You two be careful out there! I'll be back to pick you up in a week!”

 

“See ya then, Lena,” he said, Hanzo giving her a polite nod of thanks as they both picked up their bags and left the airship.

 

Lena had dropped them off in a sheltered clearing on the outskirts of West London, the closest they could get the airship without drawing the attention of the crowds in King’s Row. It was a long, cold trek to get to the nearest Tube station, but at least they didn’t cause a scene.

 

Their walk through the busy streets of London to the King's Row safe house was downright pleasant in comparison. There were lights and decorations criss-crossing the street lamps and lining most of the shops and restaurants, Christmas carols drifting out into the cold evening air as people went in and out of the tightly-packed buildings. Jesse smiled. Even though the clouds above their heads were grey, there was plenty enough color all around them. And despite Hanzo busying himself making sure they weren't being followed, Jesse caught him admiring the lights more than once with a small smile of his own.

 

Their safe house was more of a safe apartment, tucked away in an unused basement of an office building across from the Alderworth Hotel. The place had clearly not hosted a living being in several years, but when Jesse flicked on the lights they came on right away, revealing a small, open living room and attached kitchen, and a hallway leading off to the bunks.

 

“Just the same as I remember,” Jesse said, after they'd scanned the entire place just to be on the safe side. “Aside from all the dust, of course.”

 

“You have been here before?”

 

“Couple ‘a Blackwatch missions brought us to King’s Row back in the day,” he said, as he wandered into the kitchen and began opening cabinets. “And if I remember right… ha! Here we go.”

 

He triumphantly held up a box of cleaning wipes in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. “The good ol’ Overwatch safe house starter kit!”

 

Hanzo just snorted and walked over to snatch the wipes out of his hand. “Perhaps we will drink when this place is habitable.”

 

“Whaddaya mean ‘perhaps?’”

 

~~~

 

After spending their first night cleaning, their week of staking out the Talon base was positively easy in comparison. It became clear after the third day that even if Winston's suspicions were correct, Talon wasn’t actively using the place at the moment. They examined every angle, and on the fourth day even risked Hanzo using one of his sonic arrows on a lower corner of the building to detect any movement inside, but found nothing.

 

By the 22nd of December, they were discussing the possibility of breaking into the building to see if they could recover any intel that might have been left behind. Jesse argued about it with Winston over the comm for the better part of twenty minutes while Hanzo rolled his eyes in the background. Finally, Hanzo grabbed the comm out of Jesse’s hand and told Winston in no uncertain terms that their stakeout had so far produced nothing of value, and that leaving without even taking a peek inside would make this mission even more of a waste of resources than it already was.

 

Jesse just stared at him. He had to hide his smile under the brim of his hat as Hanzo looked briefly uncertain in the awkward silence that followed. But by the time they ended the call, they had a plan to infiltrate the following day with Lena flying in to pick them up immediately after, so that they would have an escape in case they met any resistance.

 

“Perhaps I should not have been so harsh,” Hanzo said, staring down at the comm guiltily.

 

Jesse just shook his head, smiling. “Naw darlin’, you said what I was tryin’ to say. Just got the point across a helluva lot better. That’s what I like about you.” He winked at Hanzo. “Well, one ‘a the things, anyway.”

 

Hanzo just scoffed at him and announced that he was going out to get their dinner, but he left the safe house with a pleased little smile.

 

The smile was gone by the time he came back, with flecks of snow in his hair and a distinctly annoyed frown on his face.

 

Jesse just shrugged at the smattering of white on his shoulders and helped him unload the takeout bag. “Don't worry ‘bout it, sugar, it'll never stick.”

 

“Perhaps,” Hanzo said, removing the golden ribbon from his hair so that he could shake out the worst of the flakes. Jesse wondered if he'd be able to convince him to just leave it down for the rest of the night. “But if it continues, Tracer may not be able to come.”

 

“Lena? Naw, no way. Ain't nothing short of a natural disaster gonna keep her outta that airship.”

 

~~~

 

Looking back on it the next morning, Jesse supposed the largest snow storm King’s Row had seen in more than a century probably counted as a natural disaster.

 

“You know, it’s strange,” Jesse said later that day, peering through the peephole out onto the narrow stairwell to their underground safe house. The snow had completely covered the stairs, the tracks he left earlier when he’d gone to buy provisions already filled in and then some. And it was still coming down. “I can almost hear Mei rantin’ and ravin’ about climate change from all the way back at Gibraltar.”

 

Hanzo glanced up briefly from where he sat on a stool at the kitchen counter, trying to get a signal through to Winston on their comms with little success. “Yes,” he said, returning his attention to the device in his hands with a snort, “it’s a shame no one bothered to check with her _before_ we started scheduling winter missions.”

 

“Not sure it woulda made a difference.” Jesse wandered over and took a seat next to Hanzo, resting his elbow on the counter and leaning his face against his hand. “Matter ‘a fact, if she’d seen this comin’, she probably wouldn’ta let us leave in the first place. Although seein’ her face off with Winston woulda been a treat.”

 

Hanzo’s lips quirked up in a small smile before he sighed and set their comms down. “This is pointless,” he said. “There is too much interference from the storm, and the last reports said it could continue for another two days at least.”

 

Jesse perked up, his hand falling to rest on the counter next to Hanzo’s. “So what you’re sayin’ is, we’re stuck here till the storm’s over?”

 

“Apparently.” Hanzo narrowed his eyes. “Why are you smiling like that? What--where are you going?”

 

Jesse was already halfway down the hall to his room, shouting over his shoulder. “Oh, well, you know what I always say, sweetheart: Always be prepared!”

 

“You have never once said that.”

 

“I guess it’s possible I was sayin’ it in my head.” Jesse shrugged as he came back into the room with his duffel bag in hand, dropping it on the couch.

 

Hanzo walked over to join him. He eyed the duffel bag with the look of a man who knew the inevitable was happening and wished he’d tried harder to stop it. “Perhaps I would be safer outside.”

 

Jesse pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Now sugar-pie, when have I ever done _anythin’_ to put you in danger?”

 

“Do you mean in general or just…today…” Hanzo trailed off as Jesse unzipped the bag and proudly flipped it open to reveal what was inside.

 

All of Jesse’s spare clothes and toiletries were stuffed into one corner, with the outline of Peacekeeper safely secured in an inner pocket along the side. The rest of the bag was filled to the brim with several colorful boxes of Christmas decorations, arranged so neatly that no space was wasted. In the center, protected on all sides by boxes, was a paper bag that Jesse opened to show Hanzo a formidable stash of Christmas candies, chocolates, and most importantly, alcohol.

 

Jesse couldn’t stop the grin that formed on his face when Hanzo just stared at him incredulously. “Where did you--”

 

“Leftovers from decoratin’ the Watchpoint,” Jesse said, beginning to unpack everything. “Used to need a lot more of ‘em way back when, but there’s no point doin’ up the whole place with so few of us…”

 

“But _why_ _?_ ”

 

“Well honey, if there’s one thing I’ve learned after dedicatin’ my life to protectin’ the good people of this world with Overwatch,” Jesse raised his voice to cover up the sound of Hanzo snorting at that, “it’s that when the boss sends me on a mission for a week, someone or somethin’ is gonna come along and turn that one week into two or three.” He shot the other man a wink as he pressed a box of string lights into his hands. “Always be prepared.”

 

Hanzo glanced down at the box in his hands and then back up at Jesse, blinking slowly at his explanation. And then he promptly burst into laughter, his eyes crinkling at the corners and his head thrown back. Jesse was pretty sure he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life trying to make this man laugh.

 

“You are a ridiculous man, Jesse McCree,” Hanzo said when he could speak again, opening the box and pulling out a tangled mess of lights. Jesse quickly reached over to help him.

 

“Says the guy who wanders around with his tit out all the time.”

 

“We have been over this. The _kyudo-gi_ is a traditional--”

 

“Traditional garment worn by archers, yeah yeah. I know it’s hard to believe, but I do listen to whatcha say most of the time.” They were making quick work of the knots, but Jesse paused, grinning. He caught Hanzo’s eye over the stretch of lights between them. “And I never said I didn’t enjoy the view.”

 

He watched Hanzo’s eyes go wide and the beginnings of a flush crawl across his cheeks before he yanked the lights out of Jesse’s hands and turned away, as if he planned to affix them to the wall through sheer force of will alone.

 

“Ridiculous,” Hanzo muttered. But when Jesse followed him over to the wall with a roll of tape and a bottle of his favorite sake, he found Hanzo smiling.

 

~~~

 

A few hours and a bottle and a half of sake later, the two of them collapsed onto the couch to admire their hard work. There were lights of varying colors strung up along the walls of the living room and kitchen and garlands of tinsel along the kitchen counters and the hallway. Hanzo had painstakingly laid out a tiny figurine set of Santa and his reindeer across the front of the entertainment center. But most importantly of all, at least in Jesse’s opinion, was their miniature Christmas tree, complete with fiber optic lights and a star topper that was entirely too large for such a small tree, on which someone had long ago drawn a red-and-green version of the Overwatch logo.

 

“We done a mighty fine job here, partner,” Jesse said, reaching over to tug at the end of a spare string of tinsel he’d thrown around Hanzo’s shoulders about an hour earlier.

 

Hanzo swatted at his hand, amused, and leaned forward to pour them each another cup of sake. “Hands to yourself, cowboy.”

 

Jesse held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, don’t get your tinsel in a tangle, sweetheart.”

 

Hanzo simply rolled his eyes as he handed a cup to Jesse, who nodded his thanks. “You realize we will just have to clean this all up again before we leave, hmm?”

 

“Naw, let’s leave it. Be a nice surprise for whoever gets sent here next.”

 

Hanzo chuckled. “That would likely be us, since we have been unable to complete our mission.”

 

“Doubt we woulda found anythin’ in that place anyway. Talon tends to leave nothin’ but dust behind wherever they set up shop.” Jesse sipped his drink, watching as the glistening lights played across Hanzo’s face. “Not that I’d’ve minded spendin’ another Christmas with you.”

 

Hanzo gave him a long look, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to take that. Finally, with the slightest bit of hesitation in his voice, he said, “I think perhaps you would have been happy to spend it with anyone who indulged your obsession with holiday decorations.”

 

Jesse huffed a little laugh and finished off his drink. “Yeah, maybe.” He leaned back into the old couch cushions, tipping his hat down over his eyes. “Still…‘m glad yer the one here doin’ the indulgin’.”

 

He heard the clink of glass as Hanzo set his empty cup down on the coffee table and felt the couch shift underneath him as the other man stood up. “It is late. We should rest in case Winston tries to reach us on the comms early tomorrow morning.”

 

“Sure thing, darlin’. Sleep well.”

 

Jesse waited until he heard the door to Hanzo’s room click shut before he moved. They’d shoved his duffel bag into the far corner of the living room after they’d pulled all the boxes out of it - all but one, which he’d carefully hidden in one of the side pockets. It was smaller than the rest, wrapped in decorative red paper and tied up with a simple green bow. Jesse considered it for a moment in the flickering lights overhead, before placing it on the floor underneath their little tree. A fittingly small gift for a small tree, he thought.

 

A small gesture for the biggest thing on Jesse’s mind.

 

~~~

 

Hanzo didn’t notice the gift right away.

 

They woke early, as Hanzo had suggested, Jesse grumbling every step of the way about the lack of decent coffee.

 

“At least it’s not as bad as that diner you are always talking about,” Hanzo said, grinning. “What did you call it?”

 

Jesse just laughed from his spot at the stove, where he was busy flipping pancakes for the two of them. “Boiled dirt! Took more chewin’ than your breakfast on a particularly bad day.”

 

A look of disgust crossed Hanzo’s face as he finished preparing his tea. Jesse made it up to him by secretly putting extra chocolate chips in his pancakes.

 

Just as Hanzo predicted, Jesse’s comm buzzed right as they were finishing up breakfast. The connection was spotty, but they could make out the voices of both Winston and Lena on the other end, assuring them that Lena would head out to pick them up as soon as it was safe to fly and wishing them a happy Christmas Eve, even though they had to be stuck inside.

 

“Gotta say, I’m a bit miffed you lot get snow on Christmas! It never snows like that in King’s Row when I’m there!” said Lena, her voice cheerful even through the static.

 

Jesse laughed. “Well, I reckon there might be enough left to make a snowman with when you get here.” Hanzo just rolled his eyes.

 

“I’ll hold ya to that!”

 

He still hadn't noticed it after they cleaned up the morning’s dishes, or after they chanced opening the door to the apartment only to find the snow piled up in a solid wall up to Jesse’s head.

 

He missed it, rather understandably, when he made a tactical retreat behind the couch after Jesse picked up a handful of snow and started to form it into a ball. (Jesse did eventually succeed in getting an impeccable shot on Hanzo, and regretted it a few seconds later when Hanzo firmly shoved him backwards into the wall of snow, laughing so hard at the pure shock on Jesse’s face that he had to lean against the kitchen counter for support.)

 

Hanzo didn't see it when he wandered down the hall to his room, or when he came back a minute later with a small deck of cards in his hand, insisting that today was the day Jesse would finally learn about _hanafuda._

 

Hanzo finally noticed the gift under the tree a couple hours later, after Jesse insisted that “those games are harder than puttin’ socks on a rooster” and that if Hanzo wanted him to play more he was going to need all the candy and liquor they had left. He stared at the base of the tree for a long moment. Then he looked over his shoulder at Jesse, the question clear in his eyes.

 

“Well hell, guess Santa was a bit eager to get started this year, huh?”

 

“Jesse.”

 

“Go on then, open it.” Jesse joined Hanzo next to the tree, flopping down in front of it as the other man kneeled down next to him much more gracefully. He watched as Hanzo cautiously picked the box up from the floor, handling it as if it was something precious.

 

“I cannot accept this,” he said, even as his thumb trailed across the red paper.

 

“Sure you can, darlin’. And don’t give me any of that crap ‘bout ‘politeness’ and ‘manners’...”

 

Hanzo finally tore his eyes away from the box to roll them at Jesse. “Neither of those things are crap.” He frowned at the gift. “I did not get anything for you.”

 

“Don’tcha worry your pretty little head ‘bout that, sugar. I figured y’all probably didn’t celebrate Christmas much in Japan anyway.”

 

A strange sort of smile crossed Hanzo’s face at Jesse’s words, but it was fleeting, gone again before Jesse could question it. He only hesitated a second longer before reaching to pull off the bow and slide his thumb under the seam of the paper, placing the wrappings in a careful pile next to his knee before opening the box, every slow action making Jesse more anxious than the last.

 

He watched Hanzo’s eyes light up as he pulled an ornate tin of green tea from the box. “ _Yame gyokuro_ …” he read, disbelieving. “How did you…”

 

Jesse shrugged, making a vague, nervous sort of gesture with his right hand. “I uh...remembered you sayin’ how much you missed it, ‘cause it’s too expensive for Winston to import. Had to get Genji to help me find it, of course; one of these days I’ll convince you two to teach me some Japanese, I swear…”

 

He trailed off, noticing Hanzo’s attention had drifted to the other item in the box: a silk hair ribbon, in a pattern of red and gold. Hanzo lifted it out gently, letting the smooth fabric weave through his fingers. Jesse couldn’t quite read the look on his face. He thought it might be something like wonder.

 

“To replace the one you lost in Numbani while you were busy savin’ my sorry ass,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

 

Hanzo met his eyes. Jesse was once again confronted by the way the colors danced across his cheeks, flickering from the walls and the tree, and how they reflected off the silky darkness of his hair, and found himself in the rare position of having nothing more to say.

 

And then he watched as Hanzo slowly lifted his hand up to Jesse’s chest, the ribbon twined around his slim fingers, so that he could see the way the pattern on Jesse’s serape was echoed - similarly, but not perfectly - in the pattern on the ribbon. Geometric swirls of gold against a backdrop of red.

 

A small gesture.

 

Hanzo’s hand curled into a fist where it rested against his chest - Jesse could feel the weight of it with each inward breath. “I have never understood,” he said, his voice like ice fracturing in the spring thaw, “why you are so persistent in your affections towards me when I do not deserve them.”

 

Jesse reached up and took Hanzo’s hand between both of his; Hanzo’s grip loosened just enough for him to lace the fingers of his flesh hand through the other man’s, the ribbon resting between their palms, the ends trailing down across his thigh.

 

“Probably ‘cause my _affections_ don’t give a damn what you think you deserve. They’re too busy ramblin’ ‘round the back of my head wonderin’ what it’s like to kiss you. Hopin’ there don’t come a day my life goes back to the way it was ‘fore you came along and made a mess ‘a my heart, in the best kinda way.” He met Hanzo’s eyes over their entwined hands. Jesse had never seen his face so open before, so clearly overcome. “And I’ve said it before, darlin’, and I’ll keep sayin’ it as much as I have to: you deserve so much more’n you think you do.”

 

Hanzo held his gaze for a moment, his eyes watery and filled with a stark kind of _want_ , before he bowed his head, staring down at the way the ribbon was twisted together through their fingers. Jesse felt a few drops of wetness on the back of his hand. He almost reached out to him then, to say something more, but was stopped by Hanzo taking a shaky breath.

 

“You are correct,” he said, his voice a quiet ache, “about Christmas in Japan. Some families celebrate it, but it is not like here or in America. But Christmas Eve is an important day...for lovers. They share romantic dinners, enjoy each other's company, exchange gifts…”

 

A slow, hopeful smile spread across Jesse's face as Hanzo continued, “I never cared enough about anyone to share this day with them before. But I want to share it with you, Jesse.”

 

“Hanzo…”

 

As if the sound of his name had broken some spell that was cast over him, Jesse suddenly found himself with a lapful of Hanzo. He steadied them both with an arm around Hanzo’s waist just as their lips met. Jesse let out a small groan, almost like relief, as he brought his other arm up to wrap around Hanzo’s back. Hanzo kissed him with all the rush of a dam breaking - no finesse but with an overwhelming passion, as if every single thing he’d been holding back was now spilling out of him. And Jesse would gladly be swept away.

 

Slowly, their kiss tempered into something sweeter, Hanzo’s fingers weaving through strands of his hair and knocking his hat askew. They finally broke apart when Jesse’s smile grew too pronounced to continue, Hanzo making a displeased grunt at having to stop what he’d only just started.

 

“Sorry, darlin’,” Jesse murmured, pressing kisses to the corner of his mouth and to his cheeks, where he could taste the salt of Hanzo’s tears. “I keep rememberin’ this ain’t a dream and I just can’t stop smilin’.”

 

Hanzo laughed as Jesse continued to plant kisses everywhere he could reach, finally tightening his grip on Jesse’s hair so that he could pull back enough to lock eyes with him. He was gorgeous in the dim, flickering lights of the room, his eyes a little red from crying but his cheeks even redder, with a lightness in the set of his shoulders that Jesse usually only saw after they’d been passing a bottle back and forth. Jesse wanted to keep him like this forever.

 

“Ridiculous,” Hanzo said, but there was a smile on his face too, and Jesse couldn't help but steal another kiss.

 

~~~

 

Jesse woke up the next morning to the murmur of voices. He blinked blearily at the ceiling for a moment, wondering why he wasn’t in the cramped bunk of his tiny underground room, before the previous night came rushing back to him. He and Hanzo had eventually moved to the couch, wrapped up in Jesse's serape as they talked (a bit) and kissed (a lot). They must have fallen asleep there.

 

Jesse hauled himself up with a groan, looking over the back of the couch to where Hanzo was speaking into his comm. Now that he was more awake, he could make out Winston's voice on the other end, just as he was signing off.

 

The other thing he noticed was that, at some point after waking up, Hanzo had swapped out the blue hair ribbon he'd worn for the entire mission with the red and gold one Jesse had given him. He was grinning like an idiot when Hanzo caught him staring.

 

“Good morning, Jesse,” he said, offering his own bright smile.

 

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” Jesse replied, his voice sleep-raspy. He nodded at the comm in Hanzo’s hand. “Good news?”

 

Hanzo nodded. “Apparently the storm passed sometime during the night, and Winston insists we should return to the Watchpoint, in case there is more to come. Tracer will be at the rendezvous in four hours.”

 

“So now we just gotta dig our way outta the apartment, huh? S’pose we should get to work.” Jesse dragged himself off the couch and stretched, groaning as his back cracked. “Gotta tell ya, sugar, much as I like bein’ all cuddled up with ya I wouldn’t wanna do it on that couch again.”

 

“Then I suppose it’s a good thing we have such comfortable beds back at the Watchpoint to make use of.” Hanzo’s smirk was doing wicked things to Jesse’s insides, and he could feel himself blushing.

 

Jesse picked up his hat from the coffee table where he’d abandoned it last night, placing it back on his head as he muttered, “Whatever happened to the blushin’ Hanzo I used to know?”

 

“What is it you are so fond of saying? ‘Do not dish it out if you cannot take it?’”

 

“A’right, that does it!” Jesse rounded the couch and crowded a laughing Hanzo against the kitchen counter, wrapping his arms around him and pressing a firm kiss to his lips. “Merry Christmas, Hanzo.”

 

“Merry Christmas, Jesse.”

**Author's Note:**

> My beloved Lefty (@steelcourage on Twitter) drew [this amazing art](https://twitter.com/SteelCourage/status/823047156542111744) of Hanzo receiving his Christmas present! <3
> 
> If you'd like to freak out about McHanzo with me, you can find me on tumblr [here](http://malevolentmango.tumblr.com).


End file.
